This Caring Heart: Prologue
Original story by: Kyuntoki
° Reviews and comments are much appreciated as well as constructive concrit!
It was a gloomy day. The smell of rain was hanging in the air and the clouds were slowly darkening as if the sky was preparing for an upcoming downpour. The sound of the engine tattled that the car was in dire need of service. Despite the racket from the moving vehicle he could still hear his father audibly swallow and he saw in the corner of his eye that the hands on the steering wheel repositioned into a new white knuckled grip. He turned his attention back to the view that was rushing past, as they were driving further and further away from the town where he had lived for as long as he could remember. It brought him no sadness to see the familiar contours of his life so far disappear behind them. Rather it was an encompassing feeling of apathy residing within him. He looked at the fleeting view.
The heavens were darkening fast now. The few rays of sunlight that had managed to filter through almost seemed like descending ladders of light. His eyes lost focus for a second as he mused on the possibility to climb his way to heaven. As he focused again he only vaguely noticed the clouds darkening up above and the last ray of sunshine fade out into nothing. Instead he saw the face of a boy reflected in the window, semi transparent and eerie.
He scrutinized the reflection without a change in expression. The face was without deformity, and there was nothing out of place. Frightening. He was distracted from his scrutiny by raindrops falling onto his apathetic reflection.
Sun rays, built by light, they weren't designed for climbing through the clouds. Which is probably why angels need wings. His eyes fell back to the reflection in the window. He looked young for someone in his late teens. His silky complexion only increased the androgynous look of his face. He preferred the word androgynous to the more popular word used to describe him. Girly, wasn't something he particularly appreciated being called. Above his round chin rested a symmetrical pair of lips. Symmetrical in the sense that the right side of his face matched the left. His lips were full, the lower lip only slightly fuller than the upper lip which arched upwards into a defined cupids bow. The nose, not flat and not pointed, but straight. And then of course the eyes. Not very different from the average asian, the eyebrows were straight with no pronounced arch, the eyes were just a bit narrower than the average Caucasian or Afro-American. And with the eye crease, the double eyelid, that for some reason was very important.
He remembered when he was about four years old, they were having a barbecue in the neighborhood, a very American thing to do. But suddenly the only other asian woman there, had started discussing this with his mom. How lucky they were that he had those eyes. He had basked in the praise even though he didn't really understand what was so special about it. He still didn't know, no one had told him. Then the next summer, his eyes seemed even more special. But he didn't ever get praised over them again.
At this moment, his hair was not that of the average asian. Close to white and just a bit shorter than shoulder length. As were his eyebrows, albeit a shade darker. He stared at his reflection. His eyes stared back at him. Pitch black, with no sign of the line between pupil and iris. Willing it to change he bit his lip and stared harder. Suddenly a low growl no human would be able to accomplish started in his throat. He quickly stopped himself and pulled himself together. He could hear his fathers sharp intake of breath and the car wobbled sightly as his father, startled, cast a wide eyed glance at him. Looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Stuck in the small space of the car with the monstrosity that was his son.
He frowned but ignored his fathers display of obvious fear. What else was he supposed to do. Comfort him? Tell him he wasn't going to suddenly attack and bite him in the jugular. It hadn't worked in the past. Something told him it wasn't going to be different this time. Especially when they were so close to getting him out of their lives. The rain was pit pattering against the window and he looked outside one more time to see the start of the raging storm that the weather report had promised.
He hated the rain. And he hated the town he had grown up in. In a short while he'd be sitting on a plane headed for San Francisco. he'd leave everyone he'd ever known behind. And hopefully the storm as well.
° Reviews and comments are much appreciated as well as constructive concrit!
It was a gloomy day. The smell of rain was hanging in the air and the clouds were slowly darkening as if the sky was preparing for an upcoming downpour. The sound of the engine tattled that the car was in dire need of service. Despite the racket from the moving vehicle he could still hear his father audibly swallow and he saw in the corner of his eye that the hands on the steering wheel repositioned into a new white knuckled grip. He turned his attention back to the view that was rushing past, as they were driving further and further away from the town where he had lived for as long as he could remember. It brought him no sadness to see the familiar contours of his life so far disappear behind them. Rather it was an encompassing feeling of apathy residing within him. He looked at the fleeting view.
The heavens were darkening fast now. The few rays of sunlight that had managed to filter through almost seemed like descending ladders of light. His eyes lost focus for a second as he mused on the possibility to climb his way to heaven. As he focused again he only vaguely noticed the clouds darkening up above and the last ray of sunshine fade out into nothing. Instead he saw the face of a boy reflected in the window, semi transparent and eerie.
He scrutinized the reflection without a change in expression. The face was without deformity, and there was nothing out of place. Frightening. He was distracted from his scrutiny by raindrops falling onto his apathetic reflection.
Sun rays, built by light, they weren't designed for climbing through the clouds. Which is probably why angels need wings. His eyes fell back to the reflection in the window. He looked young for someone in his late teens. His silky complexion only increased the androgynous look of his face. He preferred the word androgynous to the more popular word used to describe him. Girly, wasn't something he particularly appreciated being called. Above his round chin rested a symmetrical pair of lips. Symmetrical in the sense that the right side of his face matched the left. His lips were full, the lower lip only slightly fuller than the upper lip which arched upwards into a defined cupids bow. The nose, not flat and not pointed, but straight. And then of course the eyes. Not very different from the average asian, the eyebrows were straight with no pronounced arch, the eyes were just a bit narrower than the average Caucasian or Afro-American. And with the eye crease, the double eyelid, that for some reason was very important.
He remembered when he was about four years old, they were having a barbecue in the neighborhood, a very American thing to do. But suddenly the only other asian woman there, had started discussing this with his mom. How lucky they were that he had those eyes. He had basked in the praise even though he didn't really understand what was so special about it. He still didn't know, no one had told him. Then the next summer, his eyes seemed even more special. But he didn't ever get praised over them again.
At this moment, his hair was not that of the average asian. Close to white and just a bit shorter than shoulder length. As were his eyebrows, albeit a shade darker. He stared at his reflection. His eyes stared back at him. Pitch black, with no sign of the line between pupil and iris. Willing it to change he bit his lip and stared harder. Suddenly a low growl no human would be able to accomplish started in his throat. He quickly stopped himself and pulled himself together. He could hear his fathers sharp intake of breath and the car wobbled sightly as his father, startled, cast a wide eyed glance at him. Looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Stuck in the small space of the car with the monstrosity that was his son.
He frowned but ignored his fathers display of obvious fear. What else was he supposed to do. Comfort him? Tell him he wasn't going to suddenly attack and bite him in the jugular. It hadn't worked in the past. Something told him it wasn't going to be different this time. Especially when they were so close to getting him out of their lives. The rain was pit pattering against the window and he looked outside one more time to see the start of the raging storm that the weather report had promised.
He hated the rain. And he hated the town he had grown up in. In a short while he'd be sitting on a plane headed for San Francisco. he'd leave everyone he'd ever known behind. And hopefully the storm as well.